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“Ruin me,” I whisper again, though he already has.
Propping myself on my elbows, I watch him wrestle with his decision. Finally, he exhales deeply, his scent enveloping me, intoxicating my omega senses. I realize something irreversible is happening. Our scents mingle, and his intense gaze cements a truth—there’s no turning back, even if this is where it ends.
He reaches for his belt, swiftly removing it. I sit up, seizing him by the back of his head, drawing him into a fierce, urgent kiss. Our teeth clash as we fumble with his pants, each of us driven by a hunger that’s been building for far too long.
Our movements are both urgent and clumsy, a dance fueled by desperation and desire. Heavy, ragged breaths blend as we fumble with the last barrier between us. Finally, his pants join the growing pile of discarded clothes, leaving us with no more shields to hide behind.
Avery’s eyes, deep and crystalline blue, lock onto mine, echoing a silent question. I respond with a nod, a silent plea, a wordless affirmation. This is exactly what I’ve always craved—him in his most raw and unguarded state. Our connection goesbeyond the mere physical. It’s a confluence of souls, a melding of hearts.
As he leans in, his lips brush against mine with a tenderness contrasting our earlier urgency. “Seraphina,” he whispers against my lips, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that causes my heart to swell. This moment transcends the mere act of breaking rules or defying conventions. It’s about us seizing a moment that belongs solely to us.
He eases into me gently, crossing a boundary that packs will undoubtedly vie for tomorrow—a prize I’ve willingly ceded to Avery.
As he fully claims me, a gasp parts my lips—not from pain, but from an overpowering sense of completeness. We find a rhythm as ancient as time, each movement deepening our bond, imprinting this occasion into our very essence.
His movements are slow and deliberate, and he holds me close, his breaths syncing with each deliberate thrust.
The crescendo of our passion builds, and I cling to him, my nails embedding in his back, anchoring me to him. When our climax washes over us, it’s overwhelming. Lying here, entwined and breathless, I realize that no matter what tomorrow holds, this night, this moment, is now a part of my soul.
Avery’s forehead rests against mine, his breath a warm caress. “Seraphina,” he whispers, his voice a blend of promise and farewell.
I have no regret over choosing him, and I never will.
CHAPTER 1
Seraphina
“If you were a food,you’d totally be a soft pretzel,” Thea says, her eyes gleaming with the kind of mischief that only an older sibling can muster. Her smirk suggests she scored a point in our ongoing banter war.
I roll my eyes, not even slightly offended. “Really, Thea? I thought you’d come up with something more original by now,” I tease, leaning into the comfortable familiarity of our sibling rivalry. My admiration for her quick wit has always been there, even if she uses it to compare me to snack food.
Thea sticks out her tongue in response, just as Lex, my twin and our brother, saunters into the room, a bag of freshly baked pretzels in hand. He tosses one to me, joining our playful dispute. “You’re both like pretzels, twisty and salty.”
I laugh, catching the pretzel. Lex has always been the peacemaker, the one who could turn any argument into a joke. As we munch on our snacks, Thea shifts the topic to something she’s been obsessed with lately. “I’m an omega, you know. One day, everyone’s going to recognize my brilliance.”
Lex chuckles, shaking his head. “Keep dreaming, sis.”
A look from me stops Thea’s retort short. We all know our dynamics well—Thea, the ambitious omega, Lex, the laid-back brother, and me, the pragmatic sister. Our parents’ rare visits to the sanctuary where Thea stays for her own safety—a sprawling castle that feels more like a fortress—often stirs up these old roles, but we’ve learned to find comfort in each other’s company despite our differences.
Lex adds, “Though sometimes you’re more like a sour apple, Thea.” His eyes dance with amusement as Thea bites into a green apple she’s been holding. “Rotten to the core.”
Thea narrows her eyes on him, but there’s a playful edge to her annoyance. “At least I’m not a pretzel like you two.”
In that moment, comfortable atmosphere falls over us, filled with the familiar sounds of the three of us bickering and bantering. I cherish these moments the most, away from the complexities of designations and the burden of what we will become in the future.
I find myself rolling Lex’s words over in my head. They are harsh, but not entirely untrue. Thea, with all her ambitions and flaws, does have a streak of bitterness in her. It’s a trait that often causes friction in our family, especially during our parents’ infrequent and somewhat tense visits to Thea’scastle-like home.
Despite our differences, though, I hope that one day, Thea will understand that strength lies in unity, not in the power games of alphas, betas, and omegas. Perhaps she’ll come to see that her status as an omega is more than just a societal label—it’s a part of who she is.
“Seraphina,are you even listening to me?” Dean Matilda Anderson inquires, her gaze piercing through her glasses. It’s not the first time she’s posed this question, and her concern isunderstandable given her newness to the position. “Are you certain this is the path you wish to take?”
The truth? My desires are crystal clear. They definitely don’t include joining a pack, at least not in the foreseeable future. My sister Thea always craved the adoration of a pack, a dream that turned sour for her. Lex’s assessment years ago still rings true—Thea is fundamentally flawed.
“Yes, ma’am,” I respond, making sure I drench my tone in politeness. These formalities are crucial in securing the independence I seek. Dean Anderson sets her unique hexagonal glasses aside and clasps her hands, leaning forward on the desk that symbolizes recent changes in leadership. Her voice deepens with seriousness.
“Seraphina, this is a decision demanding your full clarity.” I can’t let her continue with that line of thought.
“Let me just stop you right there,” I interject, cutting her off. “It’s not that I’m against the idea of a pack, it’s just that I don’t want one right now.”
